


The Tip Line

by Milli_QueenofHats



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 02:37:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milli_QueenofHats/pseuds/Milli_QueenofHats





	The Tip Line

She walks into the bar he’s been known to frequent after a long day of work, usually doing more listening than drinking. It’s smoky and dimly lit and all the things that bars usually are. This one’s lively with chatter and music. Amused faces gather around the tables in the front of the place. More somber faces spread out along the back. It’s there she spots a recognizable long coat. The man it belongs to is furiously scribbling notes onto a pocket-sized pad of paper.

“You’re wasting your talents in this line of work.”

He turns to give her an honest and open grin. “Chief Bei Fong, as radiant as ever. You’d be surprised at what slips out after an exciting match.”

“I thought I recognized the handwriting on those tips sent to the station.”

“Any good ones?”

“We caught a group of hooligans intimidating citizens and destroying property in the southern city. Not organized enough to be a gang, but with time…” She trails off leaving the words to finish themselves. It’s then that she allows herself to cut into the heart of the matter. “I should have looked into the Sato one sooner. There was no evidence.”  
There was no quaver in her voice and her face just as stony as usual. It was only years of knowing her that gave anything away. “Something happened.” He leads her to the empty back room where they can speak in private. Lin tells him about the set up. About her officers. And about her resignation.

“I need your help. If you get so much as a whisper about where my officers are, I want to know.”

“Of course Lin.”

He can see the determination in her nod before she turns and heads towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to search every nook and cranny of this city.” Stubbornness was her forte.

“You’re exhausted. Even if you do find them you won’t be able to fight them all off like this. You need to get some rest.”

“I can’t sleep.”

Shiro grabs his coat and leads Lin outside into the dark. “Let me walk you home.”

It’s a comfortable quiet. They’re halfway to her home when she speaks again. “I never asked, how are you doing after the attack?” It’s almost awkward to backtrack. Had she been more of a socialite she would have scolded herself for not asking sooner. But she was never raised to cave to social expectations or put on a mask of false pretense.

“Well you can imagine it came as quite a shock to me.” Lin snorts at his terrible pun. It feels good, the small joy she get from a bad joke. “But I’m in working condition. They’re not lethal.” Lin doesn’t know if he’s referring to the Equalists or their weapons. She doesn’t ask.

There’s a chill in the air, she can feel her cheeks burn from the wind. Lin’s uniform keeps her protected and comfortable. Maybe she walks a little closer to him anyway. She knows she’s caught glimpses of Shiro around town, passing him here or there on her way to more important work. It’s a surprise to think of how long it’s been since she’s last had a real conversation with the man. Suddenly her door is facing her and there’s a voice in the back of her head wishing she lived just a little further away.

He invites himself inside.

With an old familiarity he guides himself towards her kitchen. Small clangs and scuffles of noises can be heard as he digs through her kitchen to set up some tea. Lin reverently removes her amour. It crosses her mind that this might be the last time wearing it as chief of police. She examines it. There are scratch marks and small dents from being well used but the form is flawless. She had always taken care to maintain it.

When the tea is ready they settle down on the sofa. One of them at each arm. “So, Shiro, how have you been?” Her curious mind ready to be regaled with his tales. He always knew how to weave a good story.

 

“Your mother hated me.”

“Are you kidding? My mother loved you. You just don’t understand the Bei Fong methods of affection.” A pause. “Actually, I’m not really sure. Maybe she did hate you.”

“So all those times you spent flicking pebbles at my head you were actually trying to ask me on a date?” Fortuitously he chooses that moment to gaze out the window, missing a rare blush of Lin’s.

“Do you remember that time in university when we were working on that project together?”

“There were a lot of projects Shiro. We always paired up after we found out how well we worked together.”

“Oh, I think it was one of the later ones. Well I had come over to your house, but you weren’t in yet and I was forced to make small talk with your mother.” A chuckle escapes Lin’s throat as she imagines her old friend and eccentric mother together. “At the end she slapped me on the ass and said, ‘go get her, tiger.’” Lin’s mouth drops, their eyes meet and suddenly they’re rolling around in laughter. It strikes in this moment that she can’t remember being this happy in a while. Ironic considering the circumstances that brought them together.

Now comes the hard part. “I miss this. I missed you.”

With those words, they notice the space on the couch has closed.

“Lin” it’s the whisper that escapes his lips as he leans in.

It starts out sweet, gentle, comforting. What she should need at a time like this. Somehow that isn’t enough. Just like the city around them it turns into this desperate thing, riddled with tension.

Shiro’s hand pulls at her neck, his other wraps around her ribs. Hers rid him of his coat, in practiced swift movements. She likes the way he touches her skin, rough searching hands, waiting to uncover a good story. She sinks back into the sofa pulling him on top of her. He steadies himself above. And there it is. A moment of stillness, a chance to turn away.

She wonders if she’ll regret this in the morning. But she knows she’ll have other things to worry about. Maybe after they’ll go on for another couple years not really talking.

“Touch me.” 


End file.
